Chapter Seventy-Three: The Voodoo Doll

As the bystander dashed to Wu Hua’s side, he suddenly dove left with a swift, fish-like leap, and Wu Hua decisively pulled the trigger.

Bang—

The bullet traced a bright streak through the air.

With a sharp hiss, the bullet shot straight into the bat’s open mouth.

–5881!

A green damage number!

“Nice shot.” Wu Hua hadn’t expected his first bullet to strike the weak point dead on.

“Watch out!” the bystander shouted from where he lay on the ground.

Another sizzling sound—the beam grazed Wu Hua’s shoulder this time, scorching a large patch of his combat suit.

“Circle it again, draw its attention,” Wu Hua instructed, lying on the ground and quickly injecting himself with a bundle of blood serums.

The bat’s attacks were fierce, but its AI was clearly lacking. The bystander, thinking quickly, stashed his M4 in his backpack to lighten his load and move faster. Unarmed, he circled the bat once more, and this time Wu Hua’s shot landed a high green score: –6339.

“That’s it. Don’t be afraid. Take it slow, wear it down,” Wu Hua’s confidence surged. His composure owed everything to his self-created skill, “Precise Calculation,” which clearly displayed the opponent’s remaining HP.

After eight laps around the bat, the bystander finally gave Wu Hua the opening for two last shots.

–397, –6157!

The bat let out a heart-rending shriek, its scream echoing through the entire tomb. Then its massive body crashed to the ground.

“Ha… ha!” Wu Hua panted heavily.

The bystander was overjoyed, hardly able to believe that the two of them had taken down an intermediate-level boss in just fifteen minutes.

“Come on, drop something good for me.” Wu Hua blew the smoke from his gun barrel and stepped forward.

What he didn’t expect happened next—the bat’s entire body began to change color, shifting from black to a dazzling array of hues, while its throat emitted a series of rapid, wheezing sounds.

“It seems to be trying to say something, but its throat is blocked,” the bystander mused, gazing at the bat.

“Damn, run! Get out of here!” Wu Hua shouted, dragging the bystander toward the corridor.

He’d seen this before—back in the survival mission, Tufan had self-destructed in the exact same way.

A deafening boom exploded behind them. They didn’t even see how the bat self-destructed; a tremendous blast wave hurled them into the corridor, its floor so slick that they slid out like dead leaves in a flood.

Wu Hua’s expression changed—outside was the altar, and if they were swept off its height, they’d be done for.

“Hold on tight!” Wu Hua shouted, frantically grabbing the altar’s edge with his left hand. The bystander clung desperately to Wu Hua’s right hand, his legs flailing in the air.

A fierce blast of wind surged over their heads—this was the intermediate boss’s second skill. Thank goodness they’d been blown into the corridor; had they been at the back, they’d have been crushed between the shockwave and the stone walls, or had their skulls caved in.

Wu Hua couldn’t help but marvel at his own luck yet again.

“Bro, don’t—don’t let go, I’m scared,” the bystander stammered, his face drained of color as he dangled midair.

“What are you scared of? Heal up, throw your grappling hook up there, climb up first, then pull me up,” Wu Hua ordered. With his current strength specialization, there was no way he could toss the bystander up.

The bystander scrambled onto the altar, then, after a herculean effort, dragged Wu Hua up as well. The two of them collapsed like dead dogs at the altar’s edge, their combined HP barely scraping three hundred.

“Dear lord,” the bystander gasped, thoroughly shaken. This was his first time facing such a bizarre boss.

“Damn, that was nearly the end of me,” Wu Hua grunted, ignoring the pain as he scrambled to his feet and rushed back inside, “Come on, let’s see what it dropped.”

The Six-Clawed Bat had dropped quite a haul: some potions and crystals, a purple pistol—clearly from the Glock series—a pair of purple gloves, and a red gemstone. A decent boss drop, all things considered.

Wu Hua noticed the bystander eyeing the pistol hungrily and instantly knew he didn’t have one:

“You take the pistol.”

“But bro, you got the kill…” the bystander hesitated, embarrassed.

“Just take it. I’ll take these gloves,” Wu Hua said.

The bystander finally began picking up the loot, though he still felt awkward about taking the red gem. After all, Wu Hua had done the heavy lifting; it was only right to let him have it. Wu Hua didn’t stand on ceremony either—neither of his gun slots had a gem, so this was the perfect addition.

After they finished gathering the loot, the female ghost materialized out of thin air:

“Congratulations, clever young man. You may now claim the Ayat Alloy. The alloy is inside the coffin you just opened, and my soul will finally have a resting place.”

Wu Hua hurriedly pulled the coffin down. Inside lay two metal bars, resembling gold ingots. One bar gleamed with a golden light, but on closer inspection, energy seemed to flow within it—a faint crimson glow.

“This is the Ayat Twelve-Element Fire Alloy sealed with demonic power, isn’t it?” Wu Hua asked.

“Yes. Please place the other metal bar on the ground. It will become my new vessel,” the ghost replied.

Wu Hua quickly complied.

“Young man, before I go, remember: once my soul is attached to this, keep it safe. Someday, it will bring you unexpected help. Treat it well, and you’re also treating yourself well,” she said.

“Miss Ghost, I promise,” Wu Hua answered.

The ghost slowly floated into the air, her form shifting and stretching under some mysterious power. Her face and body grew more terrifying, and she let out a piercing shriek. Wu Hua and the bystander instinctively covered their ears, the sound chilling them to the bone.

Then she seemed to liquefy completely, dissolving into a stream of white energy that spun a few times before pouring into the metal bar, which flared with blinding light—as if it too were melting.

After a long moment, peace returned to the tomb. When Wu Hua opened his eyes, the metal bar had transformed—into a rag doll!

“A voodoo doll?” the bystander gaped. “But it doesn’t look like one. Maybe it’s a ghost bride?”

Clearly, the bystander was well versed in horror movies.

Wu Hua had no answer. A perfectly ordinary metal bar had turned into a cloth doll. “What on earth is this for? It doesn’t look like equipment at all.”

“Bro, what now? Should we head back?” the bystander asked.

A strange look flickered across Wu Hua’s face.

“What is it?” the bystander asked, puzzled.

“Don’t you hear it?” Wu Hua said.

“Hear what?” The bystander clearly heard nothing.

“Come with me,” Wu Hua beckoned.

They crept back to the corridor. Sure enough, the long passage echoed with a persistent buzzing. Wu Hua checked his sensor and couldn’t help but suck in a sharp breath: the display showed a dense cluster of green dots, 281 meters ahead and forty-five degrees down.

“There are a lot of them—at least a few hundred,” Wu Hua whispered. “Get down and stay quiet.”

They crawled to the altar, not yet able to see the dazzling lights below, but a familiar voice reached their ears first:

“He’s already gone ahead—it’s clear he’s after the Ayat Guardian.” It was Hanmei Aoxue.

The bystander couldn’t help but glance at Wu Hua. Wu Hua grinned, “Well, things just got lively. So many people here for an illegal gathering.”

Hanmei Aoxue’s voice came again: “Sister Qiusha, that kid knows the secret to the cat statue.”

Wu Hua’s heart skipped a beat. Sister Qiusha? Could it be that the third of the Seven Fairies, Yueying Qiusa, was here too?

Wu Hua had heard of Yueying Qiusa, but only in passing. He at least knew the rank and class of top players like Snowy Night Fairy, Peasant Woman Three Punches, and Lily of the Valley, but with Yueying Qiusa, there was no information at all—unknown quantities were always the most dangerous.

If they were here to deal with him, this could become a real problem.